Memento mori by Muriel Spark

Author:Muriel Spark [Spark, Muriel]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Gerontology, Psychological fiction, Social Science, London (England), Practical jokes, Fiction, Literary, Older people, General, Didactic fiction
ISBN: 9780811214384
Publisher: New Directions Publishing
Published: 2000-12-15T08:00:00+00:00

The reorganisation of the Maud Long Ward began next day, and all patients declared it a mercy for Granny Barnacle that she had been spared it.

Hitherto, the twelve beds in the Maud Long Ward had occupied only half of the space in the room; they had been a surplus from another, larger, medical ward, comprised mainly of elderly women. The new arrangement was designed to fill up the remaining half of the Maud Long Ward with a further nine elderly patients. These were to be put at the far end. Already, while the preparations were still in progress, this end of the ward was referred to among the nurses as the “geriatric corner.”

“What’s that word mean they keep saying?” Granny Roberts demanded of Miss Taylor.

“It’s to do with old age. There must be some very old patients coming in.”

“We supposed to be teen-agers, then?”

Granny Valvona said, “Our new friends will probably be centenarians.”

“I didn’t catch—just a minute till I get the trumpet right,” said Granny Roberts, who always referred to her small hearing fixture as the trumpet.

“See,” said Granny Green, “what they’re bringing in to the ward.”

A line of cots was being wheeled up the ward and arranged in the new geriatric corner. These cots were much the same as the other hospital beds, but with the startling difference that they had high railed sides like children’s cots.

Granny Valvona crossed herself.

Next, the patients were wheeled in. Perhaps this was not the best introduction of the newcomers to the old established set. Being in varying advanced states of senility, and also being specially upset by the move, the new arrivals were making more noise and dribbling more from the mouth than usual.

Sister Lucy came round the grannies’ beds, explaining that they would have to be patient with these advanced cases. Knitting needles must not be left lying about near the geriatric corner, in case any of the newcomers should hurt themselves. The patients were not to be alarmed if anything funny should occur. At this point the sister had to call a nurse’s attention to one of the new patients, a frail, wizened, but rather pretty little woman, who was trying to climb over the side of her cot. The nurse rushed to settle the old woman back in bed. The patient set up an infant-like wail, yet not entirely that of a child—it was more like that of an old woman copying the cry of an infant.

The sister continued addressing the grannies in confidential tones. “You must try to remember,” she said, “that these cases are very advanced, poor dears. And don’t get upset, like good girls. Try and help the nurses by keeping quiet and tidy.”

“We’ll soon be senile ourselves at this rate,” said Granny Green.

“Sh-sh,” said the sister. “We don’t use that word. They are geriatric cases.”

When she had gone Granny Duncan said, “To think that I spent my middle years looking forward to my old age and a rest!”

Another geriatric case was trying to climb over the cot.

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